


Roommate Tales

by orphan_account



Category: The Middleman (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-02-12
Updated: 2010-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-07 05:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wendy and Lacey's hijincks in college.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How do you like them apples?

The first time I saw Lacey, she was lounging naked on the lawn in front of Leigh. I thought she was asleep, until she raised her arm straight up and waved at me. "Hey, new person." She was as Fresh as me, of course, but I had no way of knowing that at the time.

I waved back. "You should put some sunscreen on, or you're going to burn."

"So you're volunteering to rub said sunscreen over my naked body. Bold, for someone I just met." She was grinning.

And here I thought I was just starting to sound like my mother. "That...might have come out wrong."

"Happens." She sat up offering her hand. "Hi! I'm Lacey."

Before I could introduce myself, however, she shouted "Watch out!"

I shied out of the way just in time to avoid being beaned in the head by a Cortland apple. There were trees all over campus, the apples proving a delicious threat to life and limb, keeping the students responsive and in shape.

Lacey gave me a thumbs-up. "Nice moves! Are you a dancer?"

"Nope. Artist of the painting kind." Mom had insisted I wear a clean shirt, so my clothes didn't give me away.

...And speak of the devil, a dark-haired head (dyed, actually greying) stuck itself out the window of what I guessed must be my dorm room and yelled, "Wendy! Donde esta tu maleta roja?"

"Is that you?" Lacey asked.

"My mom."

"Hi, Wendy's Mom!" She got up, bouncing on the lawn.

Oh shit, I thought. My mom's gonna flip. She's gonna pull me out of this school before I even have the chance to unpack and stick me somewhere braindead. She was coming down the stairs to do that now. My time was running out...

...Why was my out-of-touch-with-the-twentieth-century mom smiling at the naked chick on my lawn?

"Hello. I'm Maria Watson. Are you Lacey, by any chance?"

Lacey looked surprised. "Yeah, that's me."

"Then you must be Wendy's roommate. Tell me, do you prefer the window-side bed, or the one by the door? Just so I can start unpacking, understand."

"Door's good,"Lacey said. "This way, the sun won't wake me up all the time.

"Excellent." Mom walked back inside, whispering at me as she went. "What a nice, social girl. She must have all the boys chasing after her."

Ok, so my mom was stoned. Or blind. Or maybe she just had a wild youth of her own she'd never told me about - which I was happy to stay ignorant of, thank you. Either way, all I felt was relief. "She likes you," I said.

"She's sweet." Lacey beamed up at our window. "So. Roommate."

"Guess so."

"Cool. Want to go in? I'm starting to fry in here."

"Sunblock," I said, and she stuck her tongue out at me.


	2. The vanquishing of Tommy Tam

I got dumped by Tommy Tam the night before my midterm project in Biology of the Sexes with Betsy Sherman (colloquially known as 'Sex with Betsy,') was due. Though, to be fair, I did a fair bit of dumping myself, namely a cup of milk on his head. I'd sniffed it to make sure it had gone bad, first. No sense in wasting perfectly good milk, especially after I'd wasted four perfectly good months of her life on a deadbeat boyfriend, who'd finally resorted to accusing me of cheating on him with my roommate. Lacey, at least, had been amused.

Needless to say, my desire to attend class at fuck o'clock in the morning was severely diminished, no matter how entertaining the class was. Tommy was in that class, too, and we used to carry on a witty repartee from the back. "I'm going to have to find a new place to sit, if only to avoid drama."

"If he's going to be a drama whore, let him, Lacey retorted from behind a ten-foot poster with a far-too-damn-cheerful nude couple drawn on it. "Take that seat and claim it in the name of Wendy."

"Can I claim it in the name of just not giving a shit anymore?"

"Sure, but only if you make a little flag with a poo pile on it to demarcate it. Ooh! You could demarcate Tommy Tam with it. Why does he compel one to call him both names, anyway? It's unnatural and annoying."

"I don't know, but I bet Dr. Barbara Thornfield, MD, PhD would." I'd never actually met Lacey's mom, but at this point, I think I had a fairly extensive portrait of her character.

Lacey's grin was a bit lopsided. "I bet we could sic her on him. He'd never recover. If he could even figure out what she was saying, what with her using words longer than one syllable that aren't names of ska bands."

"Now that's just mean." Funny, true, but mean.

"That's me, the Countess of Mean. My sharp tongue makes men run in fear." Coming from Lacey, biggest flirt this side of Kilpatrick, this was less than convincing. "Now… Jesus, it's one in the morning. Go to sleep. You've got a class tomorrow – you crazy, crazy woman."

Anything that made Lacey get up before noon was deemed spawn of Beelzebub.

I don't remember going to sleep, or, to be honest, much about class, but when I got back, there was a copy of some Italian movie on my desk, with a note pinned to it.

_Hey, Dub-Dub,_ it said.

_Look what I found in the sale bin in Hanaford? I know I'm normally against violence, but it's healthy to release aggression at a stressful time, so here you go. Have some zombies. Going by the blurb on the back, they probably deserve whatever's coming to them."_

_\- Lacey_

I looked at the DVD. Isle of the Flesh Eaters. Huh. Could be interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I may have set this at my old alma mater, Bennington College, which can be, um... But honestly, those two _would_ have gone to a school very much like that one, and I can promise you that characters based on myself or my friends will _not_ be making an appearance.


End file.
